Little Wolf Billie
by SoaringGryphonProductions
Summary: It disappoints me that there are no 'Legend of Calamity Jane' fanfics out there, so I took a stab at it. The year is 1882, and Calamity Jane is about to get a new partner to her posse from the north, that's right, a cowgirl from Calgary, Alberta, Canada has come to lend a hand in Deadwood. Plz read and review.


**Legend of Calamity Jane: Little Wolf Billie**

**Chapter 1- The Canadian**

The American Wild West is a place where settlers come for land and profit, and where folk heroes are born. This is the story of a cowgirl from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, but this traveler had a name that became legend with a heart of gold and set on righting that which is wrong. Her name is Molly Wilhelmina Cade, also known as 'Little Wolf Billie'. You ride with her, she will never leave you behind. Go up against her, outlaws and robbers better hope they don't see her black flattop cowboy hat in the distance.

A deadly accurate shot with an 1875 Remington .45 Long Colt Revolver or a Swiss Model 1878 Vetterli Rifle, Little Wolf Billie was born to a French-Canadian mother and an American-Irish father. Her mother taught her arithmetic, and how to read and write while her father was away on business with whomever hired him for his services. In these troubling and at the same time prosperous times, the more skills you know the better off you are. Billie's father Roger Cade worked as a Pinkerton on a coach line.

Billie Cade is a tomboy, through and through. She had short dark brown hair in a boyish cut so it would not get in her way when she was riding. Other than a small mole just below the lower left corner of her left eyes, her skin is fare with a hint of tan to it. She had sharp, but bright blue eyes and she had a figure that would make Vita at the Deadwood Saloon approve though Billie Cade was the type who would rarely flaunt it as she had yet to find a man in her life. That being said, most men have tried to kill her.

Billie remembered what he said before his last ride, 'Never let the flame of justice be extinguished'. Although she never found out her father's killer, she took those words to heart. Just months after her father passed away on the job, her mother followed as she was killed in a train accident. It was then that she found another family outside of her own as she was picked up as a child and raised by the Wolf Clan of Tlingit in the Alaska territory where she learned the skills that helped her broaden her horizons.

She was raised until she was a young adult earning the nickname 'Little Wolf' among the settlers. Now alone in the unforgiving west, she never lost heart and made a name for herself as a sheriff in Calgary with a grey Arabian named Denali. Her horse was the closest she had to family, and rode out with her on all her adventures. Her horse was as much a part of her as the air she breathes, can't have one without the other. On this day, she received a telegram from an old friend of hers in Deadwood.

The letter arrived just as she was finishing up cleaning her rifle. Her Model 1878 Vetterli Rifle was the only thing she had to remember her birth father by. It was given to her father by a friend of his, a former Swiss Army soldier living in Montreal. The rifle served Billie's father well on the job as a Pinkerton helping fend off bandits and outlaws trying to rob the stagecoaches he and his partners were assigned to protect. Roger Cade became one of the best of the best in the Pinkertons until the time of his death.

The rifle went back to his friend in Montreal, which was then passed on to Roger's only living child. Billie knew that the spirit of her family was in the very gun she carried on her back. In time, she taught herself how to shoot both her father's rifle, and her Remington revolver she kept as her sidearm until she was a capable shot with them. Although there were cavalry carbines by the same gun maker, she had to make do with what she had. Her rifle turned out to be an accurate and reliable gun, and fired a heavy round.

"A telegram coming across the border? Well, desperate times call for desperate measures," Billie said to herself strapping on her black leather pants, a white button-up shirt, and brown leather jacket. She put on her spurs and slipped on her black leather boots. She sheathed her hand-forged roach belly knife, and holstered her revolver with a spin of the index finger. She put on her ammunition pouch, and black flattop hat and exited her house out to the stables where her faithful mare was waiting anxiously.

She hitched on the saddle which held everything from blankets to her water canteen. With her rifle slung behind her back, her spurs chimed as she approached her beautiful mare, "Gotta letter from Bill, Big Girl, we're heading to Deadwood," Billie said to her horse in a calm and friendly tone like she was talking to her family, and her horse is a part of her family. She stroked her cheek, and hopped on for an adventure across the border that she would never forget, or the people she would meet along the way.

That was until a teenage boy came out of the sheriff's office where she worked. His name was John McClintock, and he was the closest thing she had to a sibling ever since she first returned to Calgary. For it was him that helped her to find out about her birth parents. Since then and since she earned her place as the sheriff of the town, he was the closest thing she had to a little brother in her life outside of the Clan, "Billie, where you off to?" John said running out just as she was readying to ride out to Deadwood.

"I've got business with Bill across the border," Billie said holding the reigns to her anxious mare.

"Bill? As in Wild Bill Hickok? This must be the opportunity of a lifetime for you, Sis!" John said cheerfully with a beaming smile,

"Oh, we go back some," Billie said smiling back at the blond boy. In return for his services, Little Wolf Billie taught him everything she knew. With his attentive listening though he could be brazen at times, John McClintock had the makings of being a capable sheriff in her mind. As a sign of passing the torch and her way of initiating John into manhood, Billie unclipped the badge from her jacket, and gave it to the young man, "John, you helped me find my parents, now your time has come," She said to him.

"Billie, I don't know...," He said in doubt

"John, I've taught you everything I know since I came back to town, I have faith in you, you just need to have faith in yourself," Billie replied, "I know you will make a great sheriff for these people," she was about to ride out until he stopped her. The new sheriff presented her with something for her travels from a friend she had made up in the Alaskan Territory where she did the most growing up. One of the best cowgirls in Canada was about to head south, but not without something to remember the Wolf Clan by.

"Edensaw came by, told me to give this to you, says you earned it," John said presenting her with a Wolf Head Knife. This knife was big at 40cm long with a carved wolf head, and a fullered steel blade. There was abalone shell used in making the eyes and teeth in the pommel. It was both a useful tool, and a formidable weapon in combat. Billie took the blade of the finest quality. Billie sheathed the knife at her belt, and lightly tapped John on the cheek with a black leather clad hand to say 'thank you' to him.

"Tell him he has my utmost thanks...Cha!" She replied with a whip of the reigns, they were off. Denali's hooves pounded the earth as she galloped. Billie would never hurt her horse. They went across the border, and into the United States. After 40 miles into their trip, Denali went into a walk while Billie walked holding the reigns. That evening, Billie shot herself dinner in the form of a sage grouse she roasted over a spit and open flame, and fed her horse oats as a reward for making progress on their way to Deadwood.

The next morning among the remnants of campfire and her breakfast, Little Wolf Billie Cade made were way to the outskirts of Deadwood after a four day ride from Calgary. Billie say an opportunity she could not pass up. Wild Bill Hickok was about to light himself a cigar when a shot rang out in the distance, and shot the tip off the cigar, "You know a match is sufficient enough to light a midday smoke, then again…," the veteran sheriff said puffing smoke, and looking at the riflewoman, "that's not your style, Billie,"

Billie cocked back the bolt on her rifle to put another round in the chamber, "Count on the Swiss, and you never miss," Billie said collectedly to praise her trusty rifle as she tied Denali to the post of the local town saloon. She approached Wild Bill with a hand on his shoulder, and a friendly twinkle in her eye, "now I've been riding for four days to come all the way out here, so I suppose you have some sort of need for my services?" She asked leaning against one of the support beams, and crossing her arms.


End file.
